Not Everyone Arrives on the Hogwarts Express
by luvscharlie
Summary: Hermione is headed off to finish her education; the last person she expects shows up at King's Cross Station is George Weasley. George/Hermione


_Not Everyone Arrives on the Hogwarts Express _ by Luvscharlie

_Warnings: __AU in that Fred lives (I just didn't have it in me that day to kill a Weasley), sex, a scandalous and naughty professor that I sort of love. A bit PWP _

_**A/N**__**:**__ Originally written for megacurious at the 2011 hp_porninthesun exchange where the rating had to be R and over, and George/Hermione was requested. _

It was hard going back to school after all that had transpired. As much as Hermione loved learning and longed for the normalcy that came with the routine of Hogwarts (as much as Hogwarts had ever been routine), there was a strange and foreign new feeling that she was finding difficult to shake. She was a grown up now. She'd seen and done too much to ever feel as though she were just a student again. And now she was going back to school without Harry and Ron, and that felt… there were really no words for how that felt. Well, maybe one. It was lonely.

But Hermione was determined to finish her schooling, so she put her last book into her trunk, put the trunk into her parents' car, who had some back from Australia and taken up their old lives once more, and headed to King's Cross Station for one final trip from Platform Nine and Three-quarters to begin a school year anew.

The last thing she expected to see when she arrived was a brood of Weasleys, but there they were. She ran forward in her excitement and squeezed Mrs Weasley in elation. "Oh, Ginny's decided to come back with me then?" Hermione nearly squealed she was so glad not to be going alone.

Mrs Weasley was a little speechless. She stammered as Hermione looked frantically around. "So where is she? One final stop in the loo then? Good grief, she's probably found a corner to snog Harry in before we go-" She remembered who she was talking to and promptly shushed.

"Ginny's plans haven't changed, dear." Mrs Weasley frowned. "Despite my encouragement for her to continue her education, she's headstrong and simply would not listen to reason."

"But you're here." Hermione shook her head in confusion. "If Ginny's not going back to school—did you come to see me off? That's so very kind of you, Mrs Weasley."

Molly Weasley had the grace to look ashamed. "Of course, we're going to be very sad to see you go, dear, but—" Her words were cut off by a stream of vigorous cursing behind her.

"Fucking, Fred." George was spitting mad. His trunk had popped open and everything had dumped out into a pile on the platform. Well everything except for his underwear and they were doing a dance around his trunk. "The dump-trunk charm. Just brilliant. Fuckwit. I come in his place to do this rubbish, and this is the thanks I fucking get. Even worse he added the Annoying Undies Jinx."

He was just getting good and started when Molly cuffed him hard on the ear.

"Bloody hell, woman, I only got one of those left. Take it easy, won't you?"

"Your ear will get kind treatment when you learn to control that vile tongue of yours, George Weasley. You are in the presence of ladies and children."

"And mums who never learned to keep their hands to themselves," George countered, drawing a smile from his mother, Hermione noted.

Tension broken, Hermione interrupted. "George, why ever are you going to Hogwarts? You're not… teaching." She gulped. Oh, that would be a total and complete disaster. She expected fatalities the first day of class.

"Me? A teacher?" George laughed. "No worries, Hermione, I won't be giving you detention." He gave her a look up and down that made her blush and made his mother raise her hand again. "Although…" He caught his mother's threatening glare and turned his eyes away. "Apparently you go and fight a war for freedom, and the Ministry repays you by trying to bankrupt you."

She raised an eyebrow to indicate that she wasn't following and that he should go on with further explanation. "Seems if you're working with _dangerous_ materials, you must now have completed Hogwarts, or whatever school, to do so, and since neither Fred nor I did—"

"One of you must come back to school," Hermione finished.

George began scooping up his belonging and attempting to put them back into his trunk, and as soon as one piece of clothing was placed in, it bounced back out again.

"Thwarted by your own product?" Hermione asked.

"So it would seem." He gave her a beseeching look. "Any idea how to help?"

"It's your product," Hermione retorted. "I should think you would know how to fix it."

"You _should_ think." George scratched his chin and walked around his trunk, appraisingly, nearly tripping over a square-dancing pair of boxers. "However," he said, "this one's still experimental, which my brother bloody well knew."

The whistle blew on the Hogwarts Express and Hermione hopped from one foot to the other. "We're going to be late; it won't wait for us." She noted that the platform was clearing out and Mrs Weasley gave a final wave, blew them a kiss and she and Arthur Apparated away with a smart pop.

"Well, I don't plan on being bare arsed on the morrow, so I suggest we put our heads together and come up with a plan. I'd also rather my undies weren't dancing a jig beneath my robes. It causes one hell of a wedgie."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She gave a minute to ponder. "You know the worst part of this is that you clearly have the experience to know the outcome of dancing undies." She sighed. "Why me?"

"Cause you're a smart girl who does the right thing, and won't leave me behind." He gave pause. "You could also keep that wedgie thing to yourself. That bit of information might hurt sales."

_Damn him._ "George Weasley, if I miss that train I'll—" She turned to see that the Hogwarts Express had already pulled away from the station and was a good ways down the track, headed towards Hermione's last year of school… without her.

"I've heard you can get there by flying car," George said with a cheeky grin. "It's been done, so we won't score any points for originality, but…" He seemed to note Hermione's glower. "Okay, then, guess I'll just Apparate to the shop and get my brother."

"Fred Weasley is the last person I would call when I need assistance."

"Well, Ron's gone to Auror Training. Harry's probably somewhere snogging my sister, which means I'll need to murder him if we find him. Mum and Dad have gone home, and before you go getting any wild ideas, I will not be asking for their assistance so that they can come here and scream at me and natter on about George and his irresponsibility—"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, do you ever shut up?" Hermione spat, and grabbed George by the shirt sleeve and Apparated them both to Hogsmeade Village, just outside of Hogwarts. There was a sickening crunch as they landed in a heap, George on top, with Hermione's wand taking the brunt of both of their weight and not bearing any of it. It splintered and crunched, and where once there was a beautiful wand of vine, now was a mess of broken wood splinters. Hermione squealed. "Look what you did!"

"Me?" George exclaimed. "How in all hell can it by my fault that you got all handsy—I mean I'm hard to keep your hands off, no doubt about that. Many a girl has fallen prey to this godlike body of yours truly and—" He rolled away from her when the gleam of murder appeared in her eye. "But really, Hermione, we could have got a room. You didn't have to go whisking me away to—_George looked around_—where exactly are we anyway?"

"Just outside Hogwarts, of course, though I guess at least one of us will be heading back to Diagon Alley to replace their wand." There was an annoying sound—almost like water that was making her head hurt already.

George was still looking around. "Hermione, I'm not trying to be critical here, I mean, you're clearly Ms Genuis Witch and all that, but when did Hogsmeade get sand and surf… and ouch—crabs?" George held up a tiny crab and set it down so that it crawled away.

"What are you talking about? Hogsmeade doesn't have—What the-?" Hermione looked up into bright sunshine, and then back down at the sand that she was sitting upon. Her eyes followed the tiny crab as it made its escape.

"What the hell—hell is the word you're looking for, yes? And 'what the hell?' indeed," George said, standing and looking around at the vast expanse of vacant beach before him. "This. Is. Awesome! I thought I was going to be stuck in a dull old castle, listening to equally dull professors all fucking day. And here I am, in some kind of paradise!" George took off running down the beach, kicking at sand, then kicking off his shoes and running toward the rolling waves, surf crashing against the beach. "You're fucking awesome, Hermione! Mini-vacation, here comes Georgie! Woo hoo! Yippee!"

"GEORGE!" Hermione yelled. "You get back here this instant! And you bring your wand. I need to get back to Ollivanders and get a new wand, then to the train station to pick up your stuff and then we have to get back to Hogwarts. We cannot be late on our first day of school."

"Woo hoo!" George screamed as he belly flopped into a wave, fully clothed and completely ignoring her.

"I swear," Hermione muttered to herself, "I think boys get to be twelve years old, and they don't grow any more mature after that."

George stood up, calf deep in the water, dripping and flinging his hair from side to side so that water sprayed about. "Come on in, Hermione! The water's great." She watched as he raised up a leg and squeaked a distressed "eep". "The fish are a little frisky, but as long as you keep your willy out of the water, they won't eat anything important."

She put her hands on her hips and glared.

"And since you don't have a willy, you should be all right."

She walked down to the shore, stopping just short of the water lapping against the sand, and threw her hands wide. "It is September 1. We are not on the Hogwarts Express. We—"

"It's great, huh?"

"It is not great. It is the exact opposite of great. I'm going to get detention."

Much to her chagrin, George began hysterically laughing.

"Stop that!"

He laughed harder.

"I know you heard me. I said stop it. Stop it this instant."

He fell over with a splash and clutched his side… still laughing and Hermione secretly hoped that a willy-eating fish would attack.

Hermione, in a furious rage, toed off her shoes and waded into the water up to her ankles, then raised her foot and swung it at the laughing idiot's head. George caught her by the ankle and pulled her down and out a little deeper, dunking her beneath the water. She came up swinging and spitting and calling George names that she was glad no one else was around to hear… particularly his mother or hers.

"How dare you, George Weasley?"

George was still laughing and Hermione's patience, already on a short tether, had really reached its breaking point. "You stop laughing at me!" she shouted.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound? We've fought a war, faced dangers most people can't imagine, and you're worried about being sent to detention."

"Yes, of course. Detention is bad. I don't get sent to detention… well at least I won't this year, without Ron and Harry there to cause trouble." She turned to George and pushed aside her soaked hair. "But then you come along…"

"To liven up your year," George finished.

"To cause me trouble," Hermione countered. "Now give me your wand so that we can get out of here."

"Come on, Hermione, lighten up."

"No. Give me your wand. I'm going to Diagon Alley with or without you."

"Hermione," George began.

"George!" She turned on her stern voice and George blanched. "Hand me your wand."

"Hermione, I want you to—"

"NOW!"

"Eep! Fine. Gosh, no need to go mental." George reached into his pocket, and the look that crossed his face was almost comical.

"Give it over," Hermione demanded, waving her fingers at him palm up to accept his wand.

"Well, um—_he pursed his lips and then bit the lower one and looked sheepish_—oopsy."

"Oopsy?"

"Um, well, it seems that my bag—you know the one back at King's Cross Station."

"Yeah?"

"Seems my wand is in there. You know, for safe-keeping."

"What idiot doesn't keep their wand with them at all times?" Hermione asked, outraged. "Did Moody teach you nothing about constant vigilance?"

"First of all, the war's over; hang on to your knickers, woman. Secondly, probably an idiot who doesn't want their wand broken in freak falling accidents when crazy witches whisk them away with no warning. Or maybe one who already has lopsided ears and would like to keeps his arse cheeks symmetrical."

She couldn't stop herself from giggling despite her irritation at him. George had a point. It was as she giggled that she noted that he was staring at her tits. She looked down and noted that white school shirts, when wet, were incredibly see-through, and her nipples were standing at attention to give him a good show. Her first instinct was to cover herself with her arms, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her hesitate. She welcomed his stare more than she thought she would; it felt good to see desire in someone's eyes. She'd loved Ron, but things with him hadn't ended all that well; they simply worked better as friends, and throwing romance in the mix had confused things. Since then, she'd felt rather undesirable and a bit self-conscious.

But George Weasley was looking at her as though she were a tasty dish that he deeply desired to taste, and she found that she rather liked the attention. It felt good to be desired. He leaned in towards her and despite her first instinct to pull away, she forced herself to stay put and even leaned in a bit when his lips moved in for a kiss. She couldn't really wrap her mind around what was happening.

His lips were soft and salty from the sea, and she opened her mouth eagerly when his tongue pressed to enter. His kiss left her breathless and he pulled away and cupped her face with his hand. "Hermione," he said in a whisper, and she pressed a finger to his lips and whispered, "Shhhh." If she closed her eyes, he could be anyone… or no one.

She raised up on her knees and Hermione crawled over his legs to straddle him. "You're an idiot, George Weasley." She said the words with little conviction, and George smiled up at her.

"And what does that make you for wanting me?" George asked.

"An even bigger idiot than you are," she replied.

"Good that we could clear that up. Since we're stuck out here in paradise, I think we should take advantage of it."

"You're making me miss my first day of school."

"It's a long train ride. We've got time." George reached for the bottoms of her blouse and ripped up so that buttons scattered everywhere, making soft plinks as they hit the water.

Hermione gave his head a thump. "How exactly am I supposed to go to Diagon Alley to get a new wand with my tits hanging out?"

"The press will love it. War hero turns wandless slag. _The Prophet_'s headlines haven't been so juicy and evocative since Draco Malfoy was caught in the back room of that apothecary doing lewd things with a chicken."

Hermione retched. "You do know how to kill a mood."

George swept aside both sides of her shirt and pushed her bra up over her tits so that they bounced free. "Mood still dead?"

"I'm feeling like it might be a bit revived."

"Only a bit?" George tweaked her left nipple.

"Maybe a bit more than a bit." Hermione tangled her hand into George's damp ginger hair and pushed a strand behind his one good ear.

He latched onto her nipple, laving a tongue around its peak.

"Or a lot more than a bit." Hermione gasped and pressed his head close.

George's hand slipped beneath the clear water and grasped her calf, sliding his fingers up her leg, her thigh and pushing up her uniform skirt. He grasped the thin bit of elastic that held her knickers and tugged so that it came apart in his hand and he tossed it aside.

"You're as hard on clothing as you are on wands, you know that?"

His fingers found her centre and the state of her clothing was the last thing she cared about. Hermione grasped his shoulders and spread her thighs wide to give George access. "You're too fucking gorgeous to be covered up all the time. I like the prissy, good-girl look, but there's more to you than that, eh?"

Two fingers slid into her wetness and Hermione could only respond with a gasp, jerking her hips to ride his hand.

"School with you this year should be interesting," George said, flicking her clit with his thumb and groaning when she tossed her head and arched her back, thrusting her tits toward him. "God, that's hot."

She grabbed for his belt and made short work of it, pulling at the snap and zip of his trousers and he was rather impressed that in a short bit of time she'd freed his cock and had taken it in hand, stroking his cock to full hardness. Not even the coolness of the water lapping around them was a deterrence to his erection.

Hermione positioned herself over him pressing the tip of his cock into her centre and sliding down onto him in one long stroke. George groaned and pressed up into her warmth, pivoting his hips and urging her on in a faster rhythm.

"Fuck, Hermione," George said, grabbing her hips and guiding her to keep pace with his frantic need. He sucked at her tits, biting and nipping her tender skin. She groaned with pleasure losing her rhythm, her downward thrusts growing erratic and frantic with a need of her own.

Hermione was on the verge of climax and George seemed just as close, and his fingers pressed into her clit and the world exploded in stomach-turning colour. Hermione and George were both left gasping from the most amazing orgasms of either of their lives, when they realised that the sun and lost its shine and the water was no longer wet around them.

And a very stern Headmistress was staring at them from behind her desk. "Good evening, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger. So glad you could join us."

Hermione struggled to cover herself; George seemed to care not one bit that his willy was bouncing about for the world (or at least for Professor McGonagall) to see.

"Evening, Professor," George said with a cheeky smile.

It earned him a frown in reply, though Hermione thought the Headmistress had a twinkle in her eye. "Well, you can thank that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Teleportation Charm for getting you inside Hogwarts grounds and back to the castle before the other students' arrival. I remember the headlines from the flying car arrival; this would be a bit more scandalous. Frankly, I'd like to start at least one year with a bit of dignity and calm."

"But I'm back, Professor." George smiled and winked.

"Well, I didn't say it would be this year." Professor McGonagall sighed and looked back over her shoulder before exiting her office. "Nice equipment you got there, Mr Weasley, and I don't mean the Charm."

She left the room and Hermione's mouth was agape. George chuckled. "A vixen, that one. I always knew she was a wild cat in her day. Kind of like you, Granger. All about appearances until she lets down her guard."

Hermione simply goggled at him.

"Yep, this is going to be a hell of a year," George said. "Fred's going to be sorry he stayed back to run the shop."


End file.
